Vampire Trouble (14 page)

“Thanks.” Maya smiled at him and then turned her attention back to Xavier, who was looking at Maya with genuine curiosity. “What does that word mean? I think she was pointing at my necklace.”

“Interesting.” Xavier snapped the book closed, removed his glasses, and nodded toward Maya's necklace. “Where did you get that?”

“It was in my family.” She fiddled with the stone. “I think it was my grandmother's, but to be honest, I really don't remember much. Why, Xavier? What does
vanator
mean?”

“Hunter.”

Shane knew Maya was exhausted, but to her credit, she didn't utter a single complaint, not a peep out of her the entire trip south. They used the intricate network of underground passages to travel the entire day, not taking time for so much as a nap, and they took to the sky when the sun set. She remained alert, focused, and silent. Even when he took out some bottled blood for her to drink and told her that they wouldn't be hunting that evening or anytime soon, she didn't utter a complaint or roll her eyes. She simply thanked him and drank it.

Flying over the swamps of the Louisiana bayou in search of Lottie Fogg's house, Shane sliced a glance in Maya's direction. Her blue eyes, usually smiling and full of life, were flat and rimmed with dark circles, and he could tell she was completely spent—both physically and emotionally.

They were both tired from not having slept during the day, but the events of the past twenty-four hours were what had them both spinning. Maya was clearly unnerved by what Bella had said, and when they left, she zipped her catsuit all the way up to her neck, effectively covering up her necklace. He couldn't blame her for feeling uneasy because Bella's comment about the necklace was all he could think about.

Vanator.
Hunter.

What was Bella trying to say? Maya was a hunter? That didn't make any sense to Shane, but she'd clearly pointed at Maya and her necklace. Maybe Xavier had gotten his translations mixed up and she'd said something totally different. Damn it all. Shane's brow furrowed and a growl rumbled in his chest. She could have been saying “necklace” or “emerald” or something.

The only thing he knew about the necklace was that it was some kind of family heirloom. Maya's inability to recall specifics about her past was beyond frustrating, but Shane hoped that Lottie Fogg would be helpful in more ways than one. Gypsies were known for their psychic abilities, and maybe she would be able to help Maya get in touch with more of her past.

Safe houses for vampires were scattered throughout the United States and most were occupied by human familiars. Olivia selected one owned by a gypsy, and if there was one quality Olivia had, it was deliberateness. She didn't do anything without a crystal-clear purpose. She could have chosen any number of other houses, but she picked the gypsy. He wished he knew why.

When they approached the location of the house, Shane motioned for Maya to follow him. Obviously deep in thought, she blinked rapidly when he interrupted her but nodded her understanding. He descended cautiously, reaching out with his heightened senses to look for any other supernaturals in the area, but he found the air around them clean. He was relieved to see that the house was on several acres of property and in a remote area of the bayou. Other than a few pesky swamp creatures, he should be able to train Maya undisturbed while they waited for word from Olivia.

Shane and Maya landed silently at the end of the dirt driveway and stood side by side, scanning their surroundings one more time. Their enhanced night vision enabled them to see nocturnal creatures scurrying through the brush, and various sets of eyes staring down at them from the sprawling, moss-covered oak trees. Beneath a canopy of branches, they walked down the long driveway toward the massive Queen Anne style house. Although it had fallen into disrepair, it was still beautiful. Light flickered inside and Shane could tell it came from candles, not electric lights.

They stopped at the foot of the steps, and the front door of the house slowly opened. A woman stood in the doorway with a lantern dangling from her hand. Shane watched her carefully, looking for any sign that she might not be happy to see them, as Olivia suggested, but seconds later, a loud, feminine laugh joined the sound of crickets in the bayou.

“Well, don't just stand there starin' at me like a couple of ghosts.” She waved them forward and stepped out to the edge of the steps. Long, black hair, streaked with gray, fell over narrow shoulders, and her slim body was wrapped up in a white cotton bathrobe. If Shane had to guess, he'd say she was around seventy years old. “The sun will be up soon, and unless you two want to get your pasty asses singed, I suggest you get in the house. Come on. Lottie Fogg ain't gonna ask you twice.”

Then without another word she went back inside.

“At least she left the door open,” Shane murmured with little humor in his voice as he and Maya started toward the stairs. “I hope Olivia knows what she's doing.”

“Olivia always knows what she's doing,” Maya said quietly.

They climbed the stairs quickly. Closing the door behind them, Shane saw a glimmer of light along the horizon and felt the familiar tug in his gut. They'd made it to their destination with little time to spare. When he looked around, Shane was immediately taken aback by the sparse furnishings of the massive home. The living room to the left had a couch, a chair, a coffee table, a baby grand piano, and an enormous fireplace with an intricately designed wooden mantel. The only other items he spotted were stacks and stacks of magazines that indicated Ms. Fogg was a bit of a hoarder.

Enormous crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling in that room and in the front hall where he and Maya currently stood. A narrow staircase with a mahogany banister was directly across from the front door, and Shane could see a lit candle on a table in the second-floor hall. To the right was the dining room with a table for eight but only chairs enough for four, and based on the look of them, they weren't safe to sit on. Another glittering chandelier hung above the table, but given the candles lit in both rooms, he doubted the house had working electricity.

Lottie was out of sight, but he could hear her bustling around toward the back of the house. Based on the clinking and clanking, he suspected she was in the kitchen.

Shane was about to call out for the gypsy woman, but a moment later, the swinging door in the dining room opened and Lottie backed into the room, bumping the door open with her hip. When she turned around, she had the lantern in one hand and two bottles of blood in the other. With a big grin, she joined them in the front hall and handed a bottle to each of them.

“Thank you,” Maya said before taking a sip.

“You're welcome, Maya. Olivia told me you aren't gonna be huntin' while you're down here, so I've got a bunch of this bottled stuff on hand for you. I heated it a bit.” Lottie tilted her head to one side and looked Maya up and down. “You're a little bit of a thing, but I hear you're good at stirring up big trouble.”

“Yes, ma'am. I guess I am.” Maya took the bottle from her lips and lifted one shoulder, looking away awkwardly. “Thank you for letting us stay with you in your home, and for the food.”

“I figured you'd be hungry once y'all finally got here.” Lottie put a hand on the small of her back and stretched a bit then slid her inspecting gaze over Shane from head to toe. “Shane, you're one of those vampire soldiers, aren't you? Olivia tells me that you're one I can trust.”

“One what?” Shane asked before taking a sip from the bottle.

“Vampire, of course,” Lottie said, looking at him like he was the dumbest kid in class.

“I see.” Shane's brow furrowed and his back tensed. “You don't like vampires, and yet you open your home to them as a safe house?”

“Not
them
.
You
.” Lottie wagged a finger at him and pursed her lips. “Only Olivia has ever used my home for that purpose, and now the two of you. It ain't that I don't like 'em, mind you, but I don't trust 'em. There's a difference. Gypsy blood is rich with generations of magic running through it, and I don't feel like sharing it with any Tom, Dick, or Shane. Got it?”

“Got it.” Shane raised the bottle to her.

“Besides, I heard you two are hiding out here because of some mess with a werewolf.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Maya replied quietly.

“If there's anything I distrust more than a vampire, it's a werewolf.” Lottie made a face of disgust. “They're nasty, vicious creatures, and from what I hear, they don't do nothin' but cause trouble.”

“I assure you, Ms. Fogg,” Shane said with a tilt of his head, “you will be safe with us.”

“Ha. Call me Lottie. Ms. Fogg was my grandmama. She was a real proper Southern woman who didn't know she'd married a gypsy man until she caught him and his mama teachin' their three daughters magic. My mama told me that Grandmama chased Granddaddy around the swamp for a week before finally lettin' it go, and then she pretended not to know about it at all. Funny how the mind can choose what it wants to remember and what it wants to forget.”

Lottie waved them toward the steps with the lantern dangling from her hand. “Come on now. We best get you two upstairs. I have a couple of rooms set up for you in the attic. I figure the heat won't bother ya, and there were only three small windows for me to cover up.”

Shane urged Maya to go first, and he brought up the rear as they ascended the two flights of stairs with Lottie in the lead.

“These rooms used to be servants' quarters back in the day, and there are still a couple of beds up here.” She stopped at the top of the staircase and turned to face them, the light of the lantern brightening the dark, narrow attic stairs. “You don't need coffins, do ya? Olivia used a bed but…well…I don't know many vampires. So, do ya?”

“No, ma'am.” Shane suppressed a grin and shook his head at yet another myth about his kind that was perpetuated by the movies. “A bed is just fine.”

“Good.” Lottie turned her attention to Maya and held the lantern near her face so she could see her better. “When were you turned, girl? You seem different from the other vamps I've seen.”

“Five years ago,” Maya answered quietly, and her hand went involuntarily to the necklace hidden beneath her clothing. “What do you mean, I seem different?”

“Not sure.” Lottie pursed her lips and leaned closer, peering in Maya's eyes. “You've got a glimmer or something. See, most vamps are like black spots in the tapestry of psychic energy. Kind of invisible. Maybe it's because technically they aren't alive, but you have a glimmer. It's not constant, though. Kind of like a candle blowing near a drafty window.”

“A glimmer?” Maya asked nervously.

“Sorta.” Lottie made a sound of frustration and pulled back. “Maybe it's just the light from the lantern. I'll look at ya again later, but it's probably nothin' more than my old eyes playin' tricks on me.”

Lottie grasped the crystal doorknob and pushed the creaky attic door open, making particles of dust rain around them like snow. Coughing and waving dust from her face, she stepped into the little hallway and placed the lantern on a tiny table that sat between two more closed doors. She quickly lit another candle off the flame within the lantern and set it on the hall table.

“I'm not a fan of the dark,” Lottie said with a strained smile, picking up the lantern and slipping past Maya to open the door on the left. Shane watched her, wondering if the
dark
she referred to was him. “This is your room, young lady, and the one on the other side is yours, Shane.”

“Thank you, Lottie.” Maya gave the older woman a smile and glanced at Shane briefly. “I know that I've made a big mess and—”

“Hush up.” Lottie shook her head and slapped one hand over Maya's mouth. Maya looked almost as startled as Shane was, and her big blue eyes stared at Lottie in shock. “I never met nobody, human or otherwise, who ain't screwed the pooch a time or two. You get me?” Lottie asked, letting her hand fall away from Maya's mouth and nodding. “Good. Because I don't allow no pity parties in my presence. You want to change somethin' about yourself or your life, then it takes actions, not words.”

Lottie patted Maya's cheek gently and then went to the door at the top of the stairs. “You two get some sleep and we'll talk some more later. I know you don't need the
facilities
the way us humans do, but if you want to take a shower, I left you both some towels on the dressers in your rooms. Use the bathroom on the second floor if the fancy strikes you. When you wake up, I'll probably be in the living room reading my magazines or making something in the kitchen. Sleep tight.”

Without waiting for a response from Shane or Maya, Lottie left and closed the door tightly behind her.

“She's quite a character,” Shane murmured, following Maya into her bedroom.

Although it was pitch dark, the two of them could see quite clearly. If a human could look through their eyes, the nighttime world would seem to be painted in brown and silver sepia tones. The room was small, perhaps ten feet square, and the ceilings were angled like the roof. If Shane got too close to the window, he'd have to duck to avoid hitting his head.

To the right was a full-size bed with a white coverlet and two pillows. The headboard and footboard were curved with brass spokes, and on the left side of the room, across from the bed, was a small wooden dresser with an oval mirror. There were two windows, but both had been covered by heavy cloth blankets to prevent rays of sun from streaming in.

Maya walked over to the windows, grasped the edge of the cloth, and stood silently with her back to Shane. He moved closer and placed her bag on the bed. He didn't take his eyes off her because he was terrified she was going to rip off the fabric and fry herself in the sun. She had the same look that she had that morning on the roof of the club, as though she was ready for the light to claim her.

“Maya?” he asked gently. Standing directly behind her and ducking his head so he wouldn't hit the ceiling, he removed his leather gloves and stuck them in his pockets, letting his gaze slip over her long, blond ponytail. He'd been dying to tangle his fingers in her hair the minute she walked out of that bedroom dressed in the sentry uniform, but he kept his hands at his sides. “You should get some sleep.”